Chapter 15 Beck’s Revenge #2
I watch as he assembles his taco. His sleeves are rolled up, and I can see the muscles of his forearms flexing. Gah. When did I turn into a perv who gets turned on by bare arms?
These tacos are delicious—
Mats, I really like you, I announce at the same time.
Sorry, what did you say? he asks.
Did he hear any of that? Maybe I shouldn’t be coming on so strong before the poor guy has even eaten.
Um, nothing. I’m glad you like the food. I was thinking of doing a Snickers salad, but I ran out of time.
Mats gives a delicate shudder. You know, even after eating it, I don’t know exactly what was in there.
Oh, allow me. I list off the ingredients from best to worst. Granny Smith apples, vanilla pudding mix, milk, Cool Whip, caramel sauce, and, of course, chopped Snickers bars.
He grimaces. I could have lived my entire life without ever knowing that.
I smile. Now that I’m used to his subtle quips, I appreciate them. I can’t believe I ever thought he was sour and humourless.
He takes another bite of his chicken taco, which he loaded up with twice as many veggies as mine. Even when we’re having the same thing, he eats cleaner than I do.
Suddenly, Jinx walks in the front door. Ugh. Someone needs to invent a Bumble verification system, she announces.
She yanks off her boots and coat, then plops right down at the table with us. Oh, this looks good. Is it okay if I have some?
Sure. Knock yourself out. Before I can do the job myself.
Then Becks miraculously appears, almost as if she was hovering outside. Well, that is what she threatened to do. She joins us. Oh boy, second dinner. How was your date, Jinx?
Not terrific. He said he liked hockey, but what he really likes is hockey pools.
So, we didn’t even have that to talk about.
And he did not look like his photos. Jinx eyes Mats, who looks even better in person.
I see her gaze drift to his dark, wavy hair, and remember her calling it just-fucked hair.
My fists clench, but I loosen them and remind myself that Jinx is my roommate and good friend.
Do guys go through all this, Mats? Becks asks the one person in this room who has never struggled to get a date in his life.
While considering this, he runs a hand through his thick hair, and Jinx sighs.
I guess. One of my roommates complains a lot. I prefer to date people I’ve met in person.
Or met and hated in person, like you and Nellie, Becks says.
I clench my jaw and add strangle Becks to my to-do list. I’m just going to clean up now.
Mats rises. I’ll help you.
Becks raises a hand. Don’t worry. We’ll finish up the food and then clean up. You two lovebirds can go up to Nellie’s room and… chill. Correction: strangle Becks painfully.
He lifts a questioning eyebrow.
We can just watch something, I reassure him. We go into my room, and I shut the door. Thankfully, instead of eavesdropping from the next room, Becks is now downstairs. Now I really regret the way I’ve tortured her over the years.
Mats looks around my room.
I’m not really into decorating, I apologize.
I didn’t expect you would be. While I could take that as an insult, I’m pleased that he already understands this part of me.
When he goes to sit in my desk chair, I put a hand out to stop him.
It’s broken. I was leaning back and it kind of cracked. Right now, it’s held together by duct tape.
He gives me a look, which I interpret as why do you keep useless furniture around?
I just haven’t gotten around to getting a new chair, I explain. Plus, if I sit in a certain way, it’s fine.
He stretches out on my bed, arms behind his head. His boyish grin is adorable and melts me. Ohhh, maybe it’s a trick. You just wanted me here instead.
I laugh as I slide in next to him. I wish I was that smart.
He snakes his arm underneath me. More like sneaky.
I’m sorry about tonight. All the interruptions, I mean.
Mats gives me a squeeze. It’s fine. They tease because they care. You guys are like a big, happy family.
Do they like me? Or just like to torture me?
You’re very likeable, he says, then buries his head in my neck and plants a series of wet kisses along the base of my throat. Mmmhmm.
Likeable, or lickable? I run a hand over his upper arm and squeeze the bicep that I’ve been fantasizing about. It’s firm, pumped, and so much bigger than mine.
Both. Mats’s breath is hot as he licks along the lobe of my ear and tugs at my hoop earring with his teeth. A zing of electricity runs through me and I groan. He moves to my mouth, kissing me and parting my lips so I can feel his warm breath.
I groan aloud and sit up. Just a sec. I pull off my sweater and lie back down. Okay, proceed.
He chuckles. Mats finds me funny, even when I don’t mean to be, but I like that.
No, wait. How about you take your shirt off too? I purr.
He sits up, unbuttons his shirt, and reveals his fitted grey T-shirt. What is it with this guy and layers? But I’m not complaining about the way his chest stretches the thin cotton.
I fan myself. Is it just me, or is it hot in here? Maybe you should take off that T-shirt too.
Mats’s smile widens. That wouldn’t be fair. You’re still wearing your T-shirt. He runs a calloused fingertip under the hem of my top, electrifying the bare skin of my stomach.
Oh, wow, I breathe. I’m happy to take off all my clothes if he’ll do the same.
I wriggle away and whip off my T-shirt. His gaze immediately falls to my bra and stays there.
Hmm. Pink. Was not expecting that. He reaches over and traces one satiny cup with a warm hand. I’m jolted with need. I want to live in a world where Mats keeps his hands on me at all times.
So, I start babbling. Yeah, I’m not really a girly-girl. But it was on sale. I manage to shut up before I can tell him the price, the store, and the fact that I bought it two weeks ago when I first started hoping for this exact moment.
He just laughs and pulls up his T-shirt, revealing flat abs I’d like to eat dessert off of—if he’d ever let refined sugars touch his body.
Once again, I get to feast my eyes on his sculpted torso. It looks even better this time. His pecs are wide, firm, and curving, with tiny, dark nipples. And those huge, muscular arms. Welcome to the gun show, Cleo.
I lick my lips. If I were you, I’d just walk around naked all the time. Your body is so incredible. And I’m someone who has seen a lot of athletes’ bodies.
This is Minnesota. I can’t go anywhere without freezing my balls off, even when I have three layers of clothing on. He lies back down on the bed, and I cozy up to him. His chest against mine is my new favourite sensation, and I sling an arm around his neck to bring us closer.
Still, it’s a shame. I’ll just have to memorize every inch for my spank bank, I say.
You need to be a little more romantic, Mats chides.
What do you mean? I’m direct about sex. Isn’t that what guys like?
Guys aren’t all the same, he replies.
Instantly, I feel guilty. I have been obsessed with Mats’s body, possibly to the point of objectifying him. And I’ve been pushing my personal agenda of having sex, even as he’s been telling me to slow down.
I’m sorry. I know I can be impatient, I say.
He leans his head towards mine. The journey can be fun too.
Then he puts a warm hand on my cheek and brings my face closer, close enough to kiss.
His kisses are so gentle that I feel delicate and cherished for the first time in my life.
But then he finally parts my lips and slips his tongue into my mouth.
I surrender to all the sensations. My bones turn liquid and I’m weak with desire.
Mats strokes the bare skin of my waist and ribs, leaving a trail of scorching need.
God, your fingers are magical, I mutter between kisses. I can feel him smile against my lips.
He props himself up on one elbow and looks down at me, his gaze drifting over my breasts and tummy. There’s definitely heat in his dark eyes. Maybe by waiting, he means more foreplay? Because yes, please.
He runs his fingers under the straps of my bra, pulling them off my shoulders to expose more of my breasts. My back arches to offer myself to him.
Mats slips one hand behind me and deftly unsnaps my bra, pulls it off, and discards it. Then he focuses on my breasts, his eyes widening and his lips parting.
Beautiful. And so sexy, he murmurs.
I exhale slowly at his words. He caresses both my breasts, squeezing and lifting them and making heat ripple through my whole body.
Then he traces my areolae and circles up to the nipples as he slowly lowers his head.
When he finally fastens his mouth to one nipple and sucks, the pleasure is almost painful.
I can feel my nipple hardening and then the gentle scrape of his teeth around it.
Fuuuck… oh, so good, I mumble, my brain too scrambled to be coherent. More, more, more is my only thought.
Mats pulls his mouth away and surveys me.
My state of mindless lust seems to please him, because he smiles softly and bends his head to my other breast. As he kisses and sucks that nipple too, the sensation is an electrical current that runs from my breast directly to my pussy.
I rub my thighs together. Am I going to fucking come from just nipple play?
God, how am I getting so turned on with my jeans still on? I groan.
He pulls away and chuckles. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me. He turns me onto my back, straddles me, and cups my breasts again.
Your nipples are incredible. So pink and pretty.
And so responsive. He takes his time, sucking and squeezing and pinching my now-stiff nipples like it’s his newest fascination.
I’ve never had anyone take so much time with just my breasts.
And as much as I want his cock inside me, I won’t push Mats. He’s too stubborn.
Besides, this feels insanely good. I’m pretty sure there’s a damp spot on the outside of my jeans because I’m so wet.
It’s almost a relief when I feel him unzip my jeans and pull them down. I kick off my socks so now all I’m wearing is a pink thong.
Again, he sits back and takes me in. When his dark eyes cloud with desire, I feel treasured and beautiful.
This body, he hums as he runs his hands down my sides. He strokes my bare hips and then spreads my thighs. He can’t miss how wet I am, and, sure enough, there’s a low chuckle.
Did I do this to you, Cleo?
God, yes, I moan.
He runs his fingers across the satiny fabric of my thong, making lazy strokes at first and then finding the bump of my clit.
He strokes my clit through the thong as I writhe on the bed, opening myself up for more.
I feel his forefinger travel up and down, then he pushes the fabric up inside me—exactly where I want his cock.
Then he returns to stroking my clit, faster this time.
Even with my underwear still on, I come hard.
My body stiffens and I gasp at the intense waves of pleasure that wash over me.
Afterwards, I drape an arm over my face. Fuck. That’s embarrassing.
He lifts my arm away and kisses me. Why?
I don’t know. It feels sort of desperate. Like I haven’t had sex in so long that I just go off when you touch me.
Your body is very responsive. Which means that fucking you is going to be a ton of fun. Mats says the dirtiest things in such a matter-of-fact way. What could be better than sex with someone who enjoys herself?
Oh boy. Sex! And he mentioned it first.
Mats frowns. He sits up, reaches for his shirt, and pats the pockets. Shit. I forgot to bring condoms.
No condoms? I squeal. He forgot? Am I the only one in this relationship who is obsessed with sex? If so, why don’t I have a full supply of condoms? There might be one or two somewhere in my desk drawer, but they’re probably expired, since I got them during freshman orientation.
Well, I’m on birth control, so we could just…
As I’m pleading, there’s an odd scraping sound. We both turn to see a strip of condoms sliding into the room from underneath the door.
His eyebrows lift. The walls are pretty thin here.
I groan. Only when people are deliberately listening. And those people need to fuck off, I say, in my best Marjorie-volume voice.
Mats just chuckles. He pulls on his T-shirt and walks to the door, bends down, and picks up the condoms. Then he announces loudly, Unfortunately, these ones are too small.
I fall back on the bed laughing. Not having sex with Mats is surprisingly fun.
He puts on his shirt and kisses me on the nose. I’m going to take off now. Don’t worry, Cleo. We will be worth waiting for.
Oh, I’m sure of that. Look what the guy can do with just his mouth and forefinger.
Just then, something flat slides under the door. It’s a red balloon.
Our eyes meet, and we both burst into laughter.